In The Large Matters, Trust The Heart
by Lottie-Becks
Summary: Set after the ending to Unknown Subject  7x12 . What happens after the conversation between Hotch and Prentiss on the plane? First ever fanfic! Please R&R.


**A/N So, my first ever fanfiction! I saw the 'Unknown Subject' (7x12) episode the other day, and thought the ending could be promising to all the Hotch/Prentiss shippers like myself out there, so I thought I'd give it a go. I tried to keep them both- especially Hotch- as much in character as I could whilst still making the story feasible, so fingers crossed it worked…**

**Like I said, my first ever fanfiction, though I've been reading them for years! So please read and review…but be nice haha And sorry for any spelling/grammar mistakes!**

**Disclaimer – I don't own any of the characters or Criminal Minds. Sad face.**

**####**

"….I'm having a bad day".

There, she said it. She finally admitted it, outwardly to Hotch as well as inwardly to herself. What Regina had said was still playing round and round in her head, haunting her like an old broken record.

'_Watcha do to him, huh? Did you arrest him, like a good FBI agent? Or did you kill him?'_

'_I didn't pull the trigger'_

'_Still, your monster's dead. I have to live with mine.'_

Emily took a second to compose herself, and gave Hotch a tight smile.

"You said you wanted to know, so there you are. It's all I've been thinking about, what she said. How my monster's dead and hers is still alive. And she has a point, Doyle's gone now whilst Bartholomew is still alive-"

"He raped twelve women and killed one, he's going to jail for the rest of his life" Hotch interjected.

"I know that, and so does Regina really. But there's always that possibility, what if he escapes? What is he finds me again? So I understand, I get why she said what she said to me." Emily paused and looked up at Hotch. "But the thing is, Doyle's not really dead, not while I still have the memories. Not while I can still remember everything he did to me, everything he said to me." She stopped and gave a slight sardonic laugh. "And the thing is, I really thought I was getting past it! It's been weeks since I've had a nightmare, or felt the trapped feeling I kept getting when I was away and the team thought I was dead. But then I guess I'll always have days like today, where all I can think about is his smell, his touch, his voice. It just…it wears you down."

Hotch stared at her intently for a while as though he was carefully considering his next words, before he gently spoke. "I can't pretend to empathise with what you went through; having to completely and suddenly isolate yourself from everyone you know and love. But I can tell you that sometimes when I look at Jack, a small part of me can't help thinking about Haley, and about what Foyet did to our family. We don't ever forget what we've been through, it's as though they're emotional scars left on our bodies. But you do learn to live with them, and to find ways, however small they may be, of moving on. I promise you that."

Emily looked up at Hotch with a teary smile. "Thanks, Hotch. Really, I don't know how I would have survived all this without you and JJ."

"You're welcome. Now, I know from my past experiences that when I'm having a bad day, a good drink can make you feel a whole lot better. The rest of the team are meeting down at a bar that Rossi recommended, shall we?"

Emily smiled tentatively and stood up from the plush airplane seat. "Sure, thanks."

**####**

Hotch had been watching Emily discretely throughout the entire evening. Whilst she was chatting with JJ and Garcia like normal, occasionally laughing at a goofy joke of Reid's or one of Rossi's classic anecdotes, there was definitely something still bothering her. Her smiles were brief, not reaching her eyes, and her laughs were forced. Morgan had bought her a drink when they had first arrived but she had barely drunk any of it, instead swirling it around in her glass and taking infrequent sips.

After an hour and a half, she picked up her bag and pushed her chair back. "Guys, I'm going to call it a night I think." Amidst the chorus of the team begging her to stay and have another drink, she managed to laugh and say "no really, it's been a long day and I'm tired. I'll see you all tomorrow though, bright and early."

Morgan began to stand up and reached for his car keys. "Here, I'll give you a lift back seeing as Hotch dropped you here."

Hotch stood up and pushed Morgan back into his seat. "I think not, seeing as that's your second beer. I may not be on duty now but I'm still a responsible citizen" Hotch said with a slight smile "I'll give Prentiss a lift."

Before Emily could protest, Hotch waved goodbye to the rest of the team and walked with her towards the door.

"Really, Sir, you don't need to do this. I'll just get a cab or walk back, it's not far."

"That as may be, but it's not in my nature to make a vulnerable woman walk home by herself. I haven't been a profiler for this long without picking up on a few things; you're obviously still feeling troubled."

"No really I'm fine, just tired like I told the others. It's been a hard day to say the least."

"Well" They reached Hotch's car and he opened the passenger door for Emily to get in "if that's the case, then I'll just see you get home safely and then leave you to it, okay?"

Emily smiled as Hotch got into the driver's seat and strapped himself in. "Okay, _dad"_. She looked up at Hotch as he laughed softly in response.

####

The ride back to Emily's was quiet, interspersed with snippets of conversation about insignificant topics. But it was a comfortable quiet, a companionable quiet. The sounds of the radio softly filled the car with the flowing strains of jazz music, whilst Emily stared out of the window into the darkness, gazing at the glowing beauty of Quantico at night.

They reached Emily's apartment complex and Hotch pulled up and stopped, killing the engine. Emily suddenly felt slightly awkward, not sure what she should do now. She'd rarely been alone with her boss outside work for extended periods of time before, and she wasn't sure how to gauge his mood.

She decided to treat it as if Morgan or Reid had given her a lift instead; she knew where the boundaries lie then. "Would you like to come in for some coffee?"

Hotch hesitated. "I'm…. not sure, if-"

"Please?" Emily chuckled lightly "I mean, you've given me lifts twice today when you didn't need to. And you were there when I needed to talk to someone. Please, as a thank you? It's been a long day for you as well, I'm sure you could use some."

Hotch considered his options; Jack was at Haley's sister's house tonight, and he didn't see any reason to rush home right now. What would be there waiting for him? A dodgy Chinese takeaway in front of rubbish late night television? He was also concerned about Prentiss; something was still not right with her. "Well, sure. Why not."

They made their way towards Emily's front door, Hotch discretely lagging behind. The sensible, logical part of his brain reminded him that Doyle was gone, dead and buried; but what Emily had said earlier on the plane had disturbed him. A true profiler never completely lets their guard down and allows themselves to be vulnerable, but Hotch kept an extra eye out for any moving shadows as she let them into her apartment, just in case. He told himself he was being a good boss, looking out for Prentiss as he would any member of his team. No special treatment.

Emily closed the door behind them and went into reflex mode; setting down her bag and keys, switching off the burglar alarm and turning on the radio in a series of practised and well-rehearsed movements. A mellow melody broke the quiet of the house, as she walked toward the kitchen and spoke over her shoulder to Hotch as she went. "Sit down, make yourself comfortable. I'll bring the drinks in."

Hotch cautiously removed his suit jacket and laid it on the back of a chair and sat down. He'd been in here a few times when he'd needed to pick Prentiss up on an urgent case, or had something he wanted to discuss with her. But he'd always been in 'work mode'; only concentrating on things that related to why he was there or what they were working on at that moment. He now took the time to survey the room, noting some of the surprisingly feminine furnishings, the piles of books and magazines and the numerous amounts of picture frames dotted all around.

Hotch picked up the nearest photograph to him resting on a small coffee table, and looked at the picture of Emily and her mother. It must have been taken a few years ago when Emily was still fairly new to the BAU, her arm's slung around her mother's shoulder and a big goofy grin on her face. It was an unusually relaxed photo of the ambassador and it made Hotch smile to see them so at ease.

"I've always disliked that picture." Hotch put the picture down with a start as Emily walked back into the room carrying two mugs. "I look like I need special help. But it's a nice one of my mom, so I like to have around."

"I don't know, I think it's nice of the both of you." Hotch said as he reached for his drink.

Emily let out an embarrassed laugh as she took a sip from her mug. "Thank you, Sir."

They chatted for a while about inconsequential things; Emily asked how Jack was, Hotch asked her whether she'd thought more about calling her mother yet, they discussed members of the team and laughed when Emily reminded him about Ried being outwitted in chess by a child prodigy a couple of days beforehand. One of the few positives to come out of Emily having to adopt a new identity, and only having JJ and Hotch knowing was that she had become more comfortable around her boss. She found it easier to talk to him nowadays, even if it was still work related. It felt as though she had finally proved her strength to him, and she didn't have to keep fighting to say the right thing, do the right thing to win his respect. It was as though he could relate to her now, and they could talk as almost equals. It felt comforting. It felt good. It felt…hopeful.

There was a silence as Hotch set his now empty mug down, and accidently brushed his finger's against Emily's as she reached down to the table. He took back his hand and looked up at her, concerned that he might have startled her. Instead he found her looking back at him, her eyes holding focus with his own. The lyrics of the song playing on the radio filtered through the room.

_Near to you, I am healing  
>But it's taking so long<br>'Cause though he's gone  
>And you are wonderful<br>It's hard to move on  
>Yet, I'm better near to you.<em>

Emily could feel her heart beating faster at the contact, and the old familiar stirrings and longings reawakening in her gut. The atmosphere suddenly felt too tense, too suffocating. She hastily stood up and picked up the mugs. "I'll just take these back quickly."

She went into the kitchen and placed the mugs on the counter, before resting her hands either side of them and closing her eyes. Taking in deep breaths, she tried to slow her breathing and calm her pounding heart. Was asking Hotch here a stupid thing to do? Like dangling bait in front of her eyes that she could never reach? She looked up and opened her eyes, and saw a white flash go straight past the window. Letting out a small yell, she jolted and knocked one of the mugs off the top, where it fell to the floor and smashed into pieces.

Hotch came running into the room. "Prentiss! What happened?"

"I don't know, something was outside the window. It was probably nothing, don't worry about it. I'm just a little jumpy is all, I'll go get something to pick up the pieces." She was babbling slightly, trying not to lose her cool in front of her boss.

Gently easing the back door open, Hotch's hand automatically edged towards his still holstered gun as he looked out. An automatic light came on, and there sat a white cat on the ground, looking exceptionally unconcerned by the whole situation. Hotch came back into the room and closed the door behind him, making sure the lock was firmly in place. "It was just a cat, must have jumped off the windowsill." He told Emily as she was bent down, sweeping up the china.

"Probably Mrs Hubert's next door, always been freaked out by that cat. Something in its eyes." Her hands were shaking slightly and as she went to pick up a piece, she caught the ragged edge, cutting her finger.

"Ouch" Emily muttered under her breath, standing up and sucking on the cut.

Hotch moved towards her. "Are you alright?"

"Yeah, it's fine. Just a cut. Nothing a band-aid won't solve." She smiled weakly up at Hotch.

He took her hand in his to inspect the wound and then gazed at her. "You're shaking, Emily."

Thrown by the use of her first name, she looked at him with watery eyes. "It's fine, just the adrenaline. You know, natural bodily reaction and all." The emotions of the day abruptly over took her, and she looked down to avoid eye contact, desperately trying to hold back the tears that were threatening to overspill.

She was surprised when Hotch's hand covered her shoulder and lightly squeezed, causing her to look up at him. His face was set in a compassionate mask, only his eyes conveying the sadness he felt at seeing someone so strong reduced to feeling so exposed.

"It's okay. Like I said, we all have bad days. It's how you deal with them that matter." Hotch told her gently. His arm came round her back as he hugged her, her head resting gently on his chest. He caught a waft of her shampoo; the subtle smell of exotic fruits awakening his senses. It was as though he could actually feel his blood rushing through his veins, could feel sparks igniting in the pit of his stomach. He slowly closed and then opened his eyes as Emily leant back slightly and looked up at him. His heart was thumping so heavily that his whole chest was pulsating and she could feel it moving against her. Their faces were soon centimetres away from each other.

"Emily." Hotch breathed her name, a warning against what was now the inevitable.

"I know." she whispered back.

"We shouldn't."

"I know."

And then their lips met, gentle and tender at first before the years of pent up desire began to take over. Emily's arms reached around Hotch's neck as she pulled him deeper into the kiss, while one of his hands tangled up in her hair and the other gripped her hip, pulling her close. She gasped lightly and opened her mouth, her tongue meeting with his as he probed deeper, gently sucking, a sensation that carried on all over her body. His hand on her hip reached under the bottom of her shirt, softly caressing the warm skin at the small of her back. Still in the embrace, she slowly guided them out into the hallway and down towards her bedroom.

####

The next morning, Emily slowly awoke and opened her eyes to see the room bathed in a gentle glow. Closing her eyes again, she rolled over onto the other side of the bed and inhaled the scent coming from the pillow. It was so familiar to her, and yet so foreign in this environment. So uniquely Hotch.

Hotch. Last night suddenly came flooding back to her and she opened her eyes instantly. If she could roll over, clearly he wasn't in her bed anymore. She sat up quickly and glanced at the bedside clock, seeing it wasn't even 6.30 yet. She looked to her right and saw Hotch standing in his underwear by the window, gazing outside with his head in his hands.

His stance was worrying her. "Hotch? Is everything okay?"

He didn't reply straight away, instead continued to stare out of the window. After a few moments, he asked in an emotionless voice; "Do you regret it?"

It was like she had been punch in the stomach. Is that what he was thinking? Was he ashamed to have slept with her? Incredulously she replied "No." After a few seconds she repeated herself. "No, I don't." She thought some more and then asked; "Do you?"

Hotch turned from the window and walked towards her. He sat on the edge of the bed and faced towards the window again. Looking down, he answered quietly. "I shouldn't have done it. You were vulnerable and spooked, and I should have known better than to take advantage." He turned his head to look her in the eye. "I'm so sorry."

Emily sat still for a few seconds, trying to process what he said. Is that what he really thought, that he had controlled her decision? That she didn't want him just as much now as she did last night? She slowly reached forward and cupped his cheek with her hand.

"Hotch-"

"Aaron. I think it's okay to call me Aaron right now" Hotch interrupted with a slight smile.

"Okay, Aaron then. I have wanted to do what we did for years. Like genuinely since I first met you." Emily smiled as Hotch chuckled quietly. "Yes, yesterday was a hard day for me, but it was for everyone. I _was_ feeling exposed, but you didn't take advantage of that, you did the exact opposite. You made me feel comforted, you made me feel safe and that's not a feeling I've felt in many, many months. Last night was one of the best nights I've had since everything with Doyle kicked off. And I have you to thank for that. And I know it will be hard, but I can say with definite certainty that I for one don't want last night to be the last of those nights."

She lowered her hand as Hotch continued to stare at her. Slowly his face softened into a smile and the fire returned to his eyes. He leant forward and whispered against her lips.

"I'm sure we'll make it work out."

He captured her lips with his and gently lowered her back down onto the bed, as Emily giggled beneath him.

**P.S – lyrics are from 'Near To You' by A Fine Frenzy**

**P.P.S - I know the room layout of Emily's apartment doesn't exactly match what we've seen in the show… but you know, artistic licence and all...**


End file.
